My Personal Hell
by Mister Jay
Summary: DISCONTINUED: Eight years the Titans have been apart. Eight years Slade has had his new apprentice. Eight years since Beast Boy lost control ... and now it’s all coming back at a blinding speed. Rating changed, but may be changed back.
1. Prologue

**Summary: **Eight years the Titans have been apart. Eight years Slade has had his new apprentice. Eight years since Beast Boy lost control … and now it's all coming back at a blinding speed.

**A/N:** This is kind of an apprentice storyline, but it won't be like that one. This is just the Prologue, so you won't be able to tell if the story is shit from this. Please review, or flame, or whatever, I don't really care, this story is mostly just my try at horror/angst. Please tell me if I'm getting it right. Later there might be a vote on pairings … maybe. Possible slash. The parts with Beast Boy's POV may not seem like Beast Boy, but that's just my writing style.

**Disclaimer:** Picky, picky people. Alright. I don't own Teen Titans. Forget who does.

**My Personal Hell**

Prologue: Apprentice is a word … Control is a word.

Apprentice is a word. It is a noun that means somebody who works under a skilled professional in order to learn an art, craft, or trade and become qualified in it. An apprentice is a protégé, someone who is trained by someone else to become their successor. An apprentice becomes thusly so to train. To learn control of their art, craft, or trade. And an apprentice is normally the successor of that person, becoming like them in almost everyway imaginable. Almost like them. A person can never be truly _like_ a person. Every human is in everyway unique. Humans are an amazing species to be able to have that. But when you try to take it all away, it's like trying to take away a person's soul. But some people don't really care about that.

* * *

Beast Boy's POV

As always, big events seem to begin on normal days, so I'll skip the lecture. One thing wasn't normal, though. After that battle with Slade, I had locked myself in my room. Raven had come around sometime earlier to tell me dinner was ready, but I still didn't come out. I was afraid. I didn't want them to know. Because if they knew, I'd be off the team faster then anyone could say some long and meaningless word like, 'supercalifragilisticexpialidocious', or something like that.

Earlier, during the battle, I had been fighting with Gizmo, and I and chased him into a warehouse. There I had been searching for him. He came out from behind me and slashed at my back with one of those mechanical arm thingies that have razor sharp edges. It pierced my skin and I could feel blood trickling down my back. I sank to my knees, knowing that if I didn't get help soon, bleeding to death was inevitable.

Then something clicked. Something else snapped. I flung myself at Gizmo, a savage roar ripping itself from my throat. I could feel my skin changing underneath my clothing. My outfit ripped along my back as I felt a sharp pain on my spine. There was a loud crack as even more blood trickled to the floor around me. I twisted around to look at the cut on my back. I nearly fainted at what I saw.

Bat-like wings came out from my sides, looking like the wings of the Dragons' from those fantasy books that Raven sometimes reads. They were a scaly green that shone in the dim light of the warehouse, hanging loosely at my sides. That was when I felt a weird sensation all over my body and turned to look at my arms, at the same time removing my gloves.

My arms were covered in small, triangle-shaped green scales that were the same color as my skin. I stared at them, the looked at my hands. My fingers had always been claws, but the sharp nails were now growing at an alarming rate. I watched in growing horror as they became as long – no, longer – then my hands. A sharp pain in my lower back brought my attention to the area below the wings I'd grown.

By looking between my wings at the right angle, I could see a small, bloody nub that had appeared at the base of my spine. It began to grown, causing more and more blood to flow from the wound it had caused. It was long, green and scaly, with spikes every few inches along its length. After a few minutes of staring at it, I realized what it was. I had grown a _tail_.

Suddenly, it felt like I had lost control of my limbs, because they were carrying my forward on all fours towards Gizmo, who was staring at me with wide eyes. Another bloodcurdling roar echoed around the room, a thousand times louder then the last one. Gizmo screamed a few seconds before I hit him. After that, blood sprayed everywhere around the room.

That was when I bolted back to the tower. I stayed in my room for around six hours. It took that long for the wings and tail I had grown to sink back into my back. My claws still remained. I had tried nail clippers, but they had just bent the wrong way before falling apart.

I growled in frustration, throwing the clippers across the room. That was when I noticed the shadow at the window. It blocked the light from entering the room. It stepped off the sill and approached me. "Beast Boy," it said in a calm voice everyone in this tower knew all too well.

"Slade," I had responded calmly, turning to face the older man.

"Having a few …problems, I see?" Slade asked, walking slowly in a wide circle around me in a cautious manner. I couldn't tell because of the mask, but I think he was eyeing my claws in a wary way.

"None that would be of your concern," I countered coolly, proud of my calm façade. But I wasn't out of the fire just yet. In fact, I was walking into its center, as I was about to find out.

"I see. So you normally have claws?" Slade asked. I could almost see his smirk. Except that I had no idea that what his mouth looked like.

I chose to ignore that statement.

He chuckled. "Beast Boy, I thought you were the most controlled," he said.

"I am," I told him through gritted teeth. The parts of my claws that had sunk into my skin had returned to their full length, much to my horror.

He shook his head, like he was dismissing a two-year-old for lying. "Don't try to fool me. I'm an expert in these matters. I know that if you still had control, Gizmo wouldn't be lying in his own blood right now."

I had glared fiercely at the man, but he had stood there, watching me unfazed.

Slade calmly picked an imaginary piece of dust off his suit and waited for me to reply. There was silence for around a minute before I asked, "What d'you want?"

At this Slade merely smiled. That irked me more then anything else. "Well?" I asked expectantly, my foot tapping of its own accord.

Slade watched me for another minute. Then he finally spoke. "Changeling," he addressed me as, "do you remember why Terra became my apprentice?" He asked coolly.

I nodded stiffly, afraid to say anything because if I did, I was sure to start crying.

"I think you have a problem identical to hers."

"What would that be!" I yelled, thinking he was dissing Terra. My voice cracked and I allowed the tears to fall freely down my face. "That I can't stay loyal to my friends!"

Slade shook his head. "I was suggesting no such thing." He looked at me before continuing, apparently sizing me up. "I was thinking something along the lines of control. And I was beginning to believe that it is there you might be lacking."

I faltered. "I – uh – I don't have any problems with – that – sort of thing," I said, unable to look him in the eye. I was really, a very bad liar.

Slade saw this too. "I'm not here to play games, Changeling. I am here to offer you something."

"What, then?" I asked, not turning my back to him. It wasn't me following rules so much as animal instinct leading me now, and my instinct screamed, _RUN!_

"If you come with me, if you swear to serve me, only me, and no one but me, I can help you gain control. I can give you back the control you lost in return for your undying, unwavering loyalty. Or …" Slade turned back to the window. "I can leave you to stumble through the rest of your life, unable to control the new abilities that come with what you did to Gizmo. What you did back there was only the beginning. Just a mere teaspoon in the ocean of your actual power."

I snorted. "You expect me to accept that?"

"No." The masked man shook his head. "I expect you to refuse my offer and kill all of your friends within the week, and come running to me, begging for help, by the end of the month."

My eyes widened. "You're wrong," I hissed. I felt that pain on my back again. I took several deep soothing breaths, not wanting to show Slade that he was right.

Slade smirked. "You really think you have control? Don't make me laugh. You have no more control than Terra did. As a matter of fact, you have even less. Do you want to have your friends' deaths on your hands?"

I gritted my teeth, managing to choke out between my sobs, "no."

"Then will you come to me?"

Looking back, here and now, I suppose I made the right choice at the time. But I wonder what my life would be like if I hadn't decided what I did. But there's no point in bemoaning the past. You can work for a better tomorrow, but there's no making a better yesterday. You can't change the past, and although you can try to make up for your mistakes, no one will forget what you've done. I had looked up at Slade and said the one thing I regret even now.

"Yes."

"Welcome aboard, apprentice," Slade said briskly, pulling out a small hypodermic loaded with a potent sedative. He took a second to aim and then fired with a bang.

My last memory of Titans' tower is someone screaming my name.

* * *

Unknown's POV

I heard the gunshot. I heard the deafening bang. I heard his body thump to the floor. "_Beast Boy!_" I screamed, running towards his room. My heartbeat was thundering loudly in my ears. The run seemed to take me forever, even though, in real life, it was only a few seconds. But, even though that was the case, by the time I got to his room, it was too late.

Slade had picked him up, loaded him over his shoulder, and walked over to the window. I stood by helplessly as the masked criminal jumped out of the window with Beast Boy still on his shoulder. I was in shock. I yelled at my legs, ordering them to go forward. But they wouldn't listen.

He was gone. He didn't know I liked him – no, was enamored with him. It was my own fault for that, not telling him sooner. But I never though he'd join up with Slade. I had thought he was honest, true. The fun-loving changeling that everyone liked but pretended to be annoyed by. The boy I loved.

I could have protected him. I _should_ have protected him. I know I could have. But I didn't get there in time. I failed him. I should have tried harder. But here isn't any _time_ for should-haves, or could-haves, or would-haves. Those things already happened.

But I can't move on.

I had loved him, and he had left. That's what one gets for loving. I had tried to convince myself that Slade had kidnapped him, but I wasn't fooling anyone, least of all myself. I had loved him, and I had been too stupid to tell him when I had the chance. God, what an idiot I had been. What and idiot I was. But I had loved him.

I still do.

* * *

Control is a word. It is both a verb and a noun. To control something or someone is to have power over them, to be in command of them. To run them, how they live, how they breathe, how they _are_. To have control over something, like abilities, is to be able to run them properly without them getting out of hand or doing anything without your consent. If one has control, one rules. One is the master. One does not need endless hour of practice. 

Control is a word that goes hand in hand with apprentice. A master has control over his or her apprentice's action, telling them how they should train to obtain certain abilities. To have their apprentice be obedient and take their every command without argument. Others like to see their apprentice challenge them; show them that they can fight, that they're not afraid. Which kind of master is Slade, you may ask? Only time will tell, my friend. Only time will tell.

* * *

**A/N:** So, how was that? Please suggest improvements, I'm dying to know if there's anything I can fix. Also, guess who that was, right at the end. Ideas, please and thank-you. Who do you think Unknown was? Please tell me! I want to know if I was too obvious! And if you can't guess, who do you want it to be? 


	2. Chap 1: Our Dysfunctional Family

**A/N:** Hi! This is the new chapter (well DUH, way to state the obvious). Sorry about taking so long. At the very end, there will be another little blurb from Unknown – a very short blurb, but a blurb nonetheless. And it will introduce some people who are moderately important. And forgive me if Beast Boy doesn't really sound like a boy. I'm female, goddamnit!

**To ShadeyMike:** I'm glad you like it. You're also my first reviewer! Yay-ness! **(does the you're-my-first-reviewer-dance and sings the you're-my-first-reviewer song)** I hope you like this chapter!

**To vinnie the geek: **Sorry about the switching, it wasn't intended. 2 Booyahs, that's a lot! Thank-you! And you think it's her? Yeah, probably is. Does it really sound like her? I mean, I didn't think it sounded like _any_ of the titans, really. Maybe you looked at it differently then I did. And I won't kick your ass unless you flame me.

**To ubermann:** Thanks for the review! I'm glad you like it!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Teen Titans. That's all you need to know.

**My Personal Hell**

Chapter One: Our Dysfunctional Family

"_I'll tell you how strange I am."  
_- Montgomery, 'Fame'.

Beast Boy's POV

When I woke up, there was a throbbing ache in the back of my skull. There was something cool and smooth wrapped around my wrists and ankles. The metal that wrapped around them way some sort of alloy – yes, I known what that means, sheesh – that had a blackish color to it. It was refreshingly cool on my uncovered ankles, or would have been if I was _completely _conscious to enjoy it. My mind was still fucked up from the sedative Slade had used. Why Slade had used a sedative, I'm not sure. Maybe he didn't trust me with his hideout's location. Well, he has a right to. I wouldn't trust me with that either.

After that thought, I realized that I was only wearing boxers.

I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks. But I didn't have time to dwell on that, because I could hear footsteps. Loud, clunking footsteps. Most likely Slade. I readied myself. Or rather, I tried to and ended up cutting off the circulation in my wrists.

Slade stepped into the light. He was holding something under his arms. He smiled at me when he noticed my discomfort. Well, at least I think he's smiling. I'm beginning to hate that mask.

Slade took a step forward, but was still several feet away from me. Suddenly, a strong odor entered my nose. It was nothing like anything I had ever smelt before. It was a mixture of the strongest odors anyone could come up with, yet it didn't smell at all. It reminded me of onions and oranges with a hint of ginger, and some weird sort of perfume thrown in there. I looked back at Slade and saw the tenseness in his muscles, and realized what that smell was: _fear_.

Fear. Wow. I had Slade frightened. Slade, who had _died_ in a fucking _volcano,_ was afraid of _me_. This was just _way_ too weird for my taste. I would have turned tail and ran then and there – except for one tiny little thing. In case you've forgotten, BOLTED TO A FUCKING WALL!

Slade noticed my unease. Well, it took him long enough. I mean, what kind of person is comfortable when strapped to a cold, hard wall that has small jagged bit that poke into your back! I'd really love to know. You find someone like that, tell me so that I can ask them how they do it.

Back to then. Slade was staring at me. It was a bit unnerving at first. Then I remembered my lack of clothing, and realized why he was staring. Then it became _really_ unnerving. I couldn't really tell, but I could have sworn he was checking me over … _My God! Is Slade gay!_ I thought, panicked. Yep, that was me back then. My mind was constantly in the gutter. Go me (please take note of the _very_ sarcastic drawl).

That was when my perverted mind realized that Slade was looking at my face. I almost sighed in relief. Keyword: almost. Years of telling bad jokes to Raven helps one develop a sense of when it's in ones best interest to keep ones mouth shut. This was one of those times when I knew that would be the right thing to do.

Slade _finally_ addressed me. "I see you're awake," he said, taking a step forward.

"No shit, Sherlock," I muttered under my breath. Unfortunately (for me), Slade heard.

"So," he asked casually, but I could tell there was something being repressed, anger possibly? "You think you're funny. You think you have a right to be happy all the time. Did you not realize that when you signed on as my apprentice, you were metaphorically _and_ literally putting your life into my hands to do with it what I will? That I _could_ kill you, that I _would_ kill you, perhaps even for the smallest thing? Your life is mine to do with it what I will. You had better get used to it." Slade threw the box he had been carrying at my feet.

"What's that?" I asked, not ready to trust him. For all I knew, there could be anything in that box, from a hand grenade to a rocket launcher to one of those funny pie things you always see in cartoons. I wasn't willing to take any chances.

"Your uniform," Slade answered simply, pulling a remote from his belt. Upon it were several shiny (I was only fourteen, damnit!), silver buttons. He pressed one of them and I fell to the floor, the bindings having finally released me. I opened the box. Inside was a uniform, as Slade said. I pulled out the first piece. It was a plain, long-sleeved shirt that was a _very_ dark shade of purple with a black 'S' in the center. I pulled the shirt on over my head, not wanting to expose my chest – as muscled as it was – to my new master. Wow, me referring to Slade as 'master'. It must be a sign of the Apocalypse. I am _never_ going to get used to that.

The next thing I pulled out was the pants. They were plain, black spandex _leggings_ that no guy deserves to be caught dead in. I put them on anyway. Would you rather walk around in _your_ boxers? Because if so, I'd like to know what your taking. Seriously. Anyway, there were also the boots, which were black, as well. The bottoms were metal, the same alloy that Slade had used to bind me to the wall. I also found black socks and black gloves that looked just like my old ones. What is it with these villains and black? I swear.

Once I was fully clothed, I stood up. Slade stood across from me. He observed me from all the way over there by the computer, and it was unnerving. He walked over after a few seconds. Once he was a mere two feet from me, he held out something. It was a mask. It had a dark purple lining, but the inside was white like Robin's. The corners were turned up, reminding me of those evil villain smiles you read about in fantasy novels.

I looked up at him. "What's this for?" I asked innocently.

I think he's glaring at me. That's why I smirked. I didn't care how much trouble it got my in, I just wanted him to know he didn't control me.

"If you don't know," Slade said, his glare not lessening, "it's because from now on you are a criminal. And I think that you wouldn't want anyone to know that, would you?" He saw the horror make its way onto my face and I _knew_ he was smirking at me in that annoying cocky manner. I just knew. And that made me _really_ pissed. My fists clenched by my side. A familiar pain began to form in my upper back. I took several deep breaths, really not wanting to go through that again. I took the mask in my hands and slowly placed it on my face. It didn't make my vision any different. It just felt weird, sitting there on my face.

"Apprentice," Slade addressed me, "you may have the rest of the day off. We start tomorrow. Your room is the one with the black door down the hallway on the left. It will be the only one with a key under the front mat which you will keep in your possession at all times. You are now excused. I have business I need to attend to."

I walked down the hall in the direction Slade had told me. The rooms all had strangely colored doors, but none of them were black. The dust that coated the hallway's floors muffled the clunking footsteps that came from my boots. There were no windows in the hall, so I had no way of knowing whether I was underground, near a mountain, _on_ a mountain, or any other place that a villain might keep his hideout.

After a _lot_ of walking, I reached the black door. I can describe it in one word: black. Oh, were you expecting a different adjective? Really, that's the only way I could describe this door. It was very black. So was the doormat. So was the key ring. So was the key.

After unlocking the door (which surprisingly worked the first time), I opened it to find … an all black room. Just my luck. Wait, _what_ luck?

There was a single-person bed in the far right corner with a night-table next to it that sported a single drawer and a lamp. The walls were black; the doors were black with silver doorknobs. Surprisingly, there was a window that showed a balcony and a view of an unpopulated lake. The door next to it led to the balcony. There was a door off the left side of the room that presumably led to the bathroom.

I made my way to the bathroom. It had a single shower stall, a closet, a toilet (_duh_), a sink, and a mirror. There were some fluffy black towels on the toilet seat, and a bathrobe on a hook next to the door.

I stared at the fluffy black towels. I hadn't been expecting anything _fluffy_ to be owned by _Slade_. Wow, this was wrong in so many ways.

I looked in the mirror. There was dirt and blood allover my face, from what I didn't know. I decided to take a quick shower; god knows when I last had one. I quickly removed my uniform, which is a shame because I had just put it on. Once I was in my boxers – again – I turned on the water and set the temperature to hot. I then stripped the rest of the way and hoped – not _literally_ – in. the water felt cool against my skin. It was relaxing after all this. I mean the strange turn of events.

Why do you care about me being in the shower anyway? What, do you think I masturbate or something? No thank you, sir or madam. I was fourteen, for Christ's sake. Sheesh, you'd think you were a perverted stalker if you want to know whether I do _that_. And just to clarify things, no, I am _not _a eunuch. God, you're worse then I was.

Once my hair was shampooed, conditioned, and rinsed, and my body washed all over so that no trace of dirt or blood was left, I stepped out of the shower, one of the fluffy, black towels around my waist. I walked back out into the main part of my room. Then, just because, I locked my door. I dried myself off and put my uniform back on. Then I lay on the bed and closed my eyes. I needed some sleep.

* * *

My footsteps echoed over the deserted woodlands for miles around. There trees were at least a hundred times taller then any trees I'd ever seen. They stood tall and straight, soldiers waiting for the command to attack. Their leafy tops blew in the wind. The sunlight that filtered through barely gave me enough light to walk by.

There was a sound behind me. Kind of like rushing water. But it crackled too. Suddenly, a giant inferno flew by on both sides. It wasn't dramatic. It was spectacular. It wasn't even that giant. It just past me and was gone. Leaving only broken trees and damaged plants in its wake.

The destruction was almost like blood. There were burnt stumps for miles around, looking like thrown corpses. Their tops were burnt a solid black while their roots were ripped up. There were also the small plants next to the large trees. They were limp and crumpled, pretty much dead. I knelt down next to one. I propped the limp thing up. It was a white lily. Raven once told me that lilies, especially white ones, foretell death. Its leaves were almost all burnt off and its stem was crumpled underneath it. It must've once been a beautiful flower, but it wasn't any longer. It had been destroyed.

Like my old life with the Titans.

There was nothing else living in the area except for me. At least, that's what I thought. That was when I noticed the hooded someone.It kneeled next to a collapsed flower. "Beast Boy," it addressed me in a familiar hollow voice, "how could you do this?"

"How could I do what?" I asked, staring at the person with wide eyes.

"You did this," it said, gesturing at the burnt plains. "You destroyed everything. You hurt our friends so much. How could you do it?" it stood there, unmoving, waiting for my reply.

I couldn't respond. I didn't know what to say. My mouth moved, but nothing came out. I suppose I looked like a fish out of water. When I finally found my voice, it came out as a squeak. "What d'you mean?"

It still didn't stand. It just kneeled in front of the flower, straightening its stem with delicate fingers. Fingers that were perfectly cream. They were long, slender and calloused, showing that their owner had undergone long hours of training to receive the wiry muscle that covered their digits.

Finally, they stood. The long black cloak they wore billowed around their feet with the breeze. They addressed me in their emotionless voice. "You destroyed us, Beast Boy. You destroyed the team. If we disappear, remember it was entirely your fault." A jolt of pain went through my spine. I screamed. And found myself on the floor next to my bed.

* * *

Do you think dreams are symbolic? I do. I think dreams symbolize your conscious. What you really feel. I think that the subconscious knows everything. That why some people can dream up the answer. Because, subconsciously, they know the answer. At least, that what I theorize. I don't know what that dream would symbolize. If I wanted to find out, I'd have to discover who that was with the pale skin. And the monotone voice. And the disturbingly honest outlook.

I will find a meaning to this. See if I don't … unless it was all completely meaningless. That would be awkward. Really, very awkward.

* * *

How do you know when you're bored? When you start to count the number of spots the paint has chipped off of. Which is really fun to do … if you think that eating shit is fun, too.

"Forty-six thousand, eight hundred and seventy-one, forty-six thousand, eight hundred and seventy-two, forty-six thousand eight hundred and seventy-three –"

Wow, this paint has chipped a lot.

I was lying on my back, staring at the ceiling, counting paint chips. My new mask – courtesy of Slade – was settled comfortably on my face. My new uniform stretched over my skin, showing off muscled that I didn't know I had. So I'm a bit (cough – a lot – cough) vain, sue me!

There was a knock. A muffled voice came through the door. "Um … is anyone in there? I brought … whoever you are, some dinner." It sounded like a boy my age with flawless English and a tink French accent. I nodded, and then I realized that he couldn't see me. I walked over to the door and opened it.

Standing there was an orange-haired boy who was a few inches taller then me. His lank, oily braids fell down to his shoulders in a waterfall-esq pattern. His eyes were a bright red that was not meant for human eyes, and his eyebrows were unruly. His nose was crocked like it had been broken several times, and his mouth was set determinedly over a delicate chin. He wore a plain orange shirt with black arm guards and wrist guards. His jeans were plain black and worn at the knees, like he did a lot of crawling. His shoes were blood-red combat boots with black laces. He was holding a plain black tray that bore a plate of vegetables and fruits (anti-conformism forever!) and a Pepsi. There was also a note.

He stared at me in confusion. "I thought Slade's new apprentice would be a little more … imposing. You're a squirt," he stated plainly.

"Yeah, whatever," I muttered, opening the door wider and reaching for the tray. I pulled it out of his hands – none too gently, might I add – and moved to close the door.

He put his hand in the door and poked his head around. "I'm sorry," he told me, "I just have a habit of saying the worst possible thing. It just happens, you know. I'm sorry." He shifted uncomfortably. There was a pause before he added, "Call me _Diable_." I raised one of my eyebrows. I think he got the impression, because he added, "It means 'devil' in French." I nodded.

"So …" I began, widening the door. "Are you going to stay out there in the hall? I mean, you don't look like you've got to be anywhere in a hurry …"

His eyes grew wide. "You mean you're not mad at me or anything?" he asked. I nodded. He smiled widely.

He walked into my room and sat on the edge of my bed. "So … what are you? Like, are you a telekinetic, or have super strength, or some form of meta-human? Or are you some kind of lost spirit?" he asked enthusiastically. This must have been the best topic that they talked about here. Don't ask me about 'they'. You'll find out soon enough.

"I'm a shape shifter," I told him. "What do you do?"

"Me?" he asked, grinning lopsidedly and pointing his thumb at himself. "I melt things, and I can create and control fire. I guess that would be in the meta-human category."

"I met a pyro-kinetic once. He looked less human then you do, though," I mused, thinking back to the Tournament of Heroes. "Where're you from?" I asked, hoping for something that would fill the awkward silence.

"I used to live in France. I was born there, in a large country house. My father has the same abilities as me. The whole male side of my family has pyro-kinetic powers. Everyone thought they were hell spawn – hence my name, _Diable_ – and would never come anywhere near our house or any of our family members and staff for fear of being sucked into Hell. When I was growing up, I didn't have any friends. At thirteen, about a year ago, I left for America. When I got here, I saw that I was kind of normal, there were so many meta-humans running around this side of the globe. But I realized that I was still considered a freak, it was just that there were more people for, and I quote, 'normal' human beings. I can't see how they can really consider themselves normal when they're always fighting amongst themselves, killing and warring against each other.

"After my first month here, I had been kicked out of my job once my boss found out about my abilities. That was when Slade found me. It was during the winter, and I was walking down the boulevard in downtown Steel City, when he approached me. He walked along in my direction, a few feet behind me. 'Evening', he said. I nodded. 'What bring you outside on a cold night like this?' he asked curiously. I shrugged. And he kept walking with me in silence. Finally, he asked me, 'where're you staying?' and I told him that once I was fired I had been kicked out of my apartment because I couldn't pay the rent. 'Do you need some place to stay?' he asked. Then I didn't know whether or not to trust him, so I took the offer. He's been training me for the past year."

I looked up at the pyro-kinetic from the place on my bed I had moved to during his story. "That sounds rehearsed," I informed him, grabbing another carrot.

"It is," he replied with a grin, taking a carrot stick too. "So where are you from? And what's your name?"

"Beast Boy," I told him. He gasped.

"Beast Boy! As in, the Teen Titans?" he asked excitedly.

"Erm, yeah," I said, shifting uncomfortably in my seat.

He snapped his fingers, like a person does when they remember something they thought they had forgotten. "I thought you looked familiar," he declared triumphantly. "It was the green hair." He paused, seemingly troubled. Actually, he was troubled. I just like the word 'seemingly'.

"Why'd you quit?" he asked, a frown etched on his face.

My mouth and brain tried to work as I tried to simultaneously come up with a good excuse and tell him a believable lie. But there was really no need for that.

"He doesn't want to talk about it," said a smug female voice from the doorway. I turned to find a short and stocky purple-robe-clad female leaning against the door frame she had long, deep violet hair that flowed down past her waist. Her eyes were covered by black sunglasses with silver frames. A red spiked chocker was situated around her neck. Black combat boots peeked out from under her long robe. She approached _Diable_ andme in lazy strides, her hips swinging strongly back and forth. She held out a hand for me to shake.

"I'm Helena. It's nice to meet you too, and could you please stop staring at me in awe? I can only be admired _so _much," she added, the smug grin becoming – you guessed it – smugger.

"What –" I didn't get to finish that sentence.

"– Are my powers?" she asked, smug grin still at the ready.

"How d'you –" that one either.

"– Know what you're going to say?"

"Can you –"

"– Read minds? You betcha."

My eyes widened. "Really! That's – that's –"

"– amazing? Yes, I think it rocks, too."

"_Will you stop that!_" as cool as mind reading was, I preferred to finish my own sentences, thank-you very, _very_ much.

She smiled. "Sure," she said, sitting down next to us.

"So," I asked, watching her choose a carrot sticks (yes, I know there were too many carrot sticks on the plate), "Where do you come from?"

"That's classified information."

I tried again. "Is that you natural hair color?"

"That's classified information."

Time to play a little game. "Are you really a Goth, or just a poser?"

"Classified."

I hate the word 'classified'. "Would you actually call yourself a Goth?"

"Classified."

I was ready to spontaneously combust. "Do you actually know anyone who would be caught dead in that outfit?"

"Classified."

I blew up. "AAARRRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHH! IS THERE ANYTHING ABOUT YOU THAT _ISN'T_ CLASSIFIED!"

She smirked smugly. "Classified."

"**_AAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!_**"

I fell over backwards onto my bed, glaring at her. She just giggled. Do girls _have_ to giggle? God, I _hate_ it when girls giggle. And all the while, _Diable_ had been watching me and trying to keep a straight face.

Another girl appeared at the door. She wore a plain blue t-shirt and blue jeans. Her runners were white and her hair was an oily black. Her eyes were also obsidian. She stood tall, her nose held high in the air. "I'm sorry to crash your party, but I don't think that anyone didn't hear you. Terry's probably coming to."

_Diable _paled. With a small 'eep' he jumped off and hid over the other side of the bed. "Not Terry," he pleaded, peeking up slightly. While the girls were giggling, I had a puzzled look on my face. "You'll see," The newcomer told me, trying to contain her giggles. "By the way, I'm Alexis."

I couldn't respond, for at that moment, another boy appeared at the door. He wore a plain black jumpsuit with armored knee and chest guards. He wore mid-calf leather boots that had metal soles. Fingerless black gloves with a dragon pattern ran up to his elbows, and from his neck hung a silver pendant. His hair was waist-length and deep blue, almost black. His eyes glowed an imposing orange. His mouth was a thin, curved line. When he spoke, his voice was confident.

He ran slightly past us, but he grabbed onto the doorframe, pulling himself back to the room's entrance. He looked from Helena to Alexis to _Diable_ (still cowering for reasons unknown) until his eyes finally landed on me. He approached me with his hand outstretched. "Hello," he addressed me, "I'm Terrance. Who're you?"

"Beast Boy," I said, reaching to shake his had. Instead of that, he bowed over my hand and _kissed_ it. I stared at him with wide (very wide) eyes until _Diable _jumped up from behind me and hurled fireballs at Terry.

"Die, fag!" _Diable_ yelled mockingly, charging at Terry, who was grinning widely. The two ran around the room, laughing loudly. Every once in a while, they would throw punches at each other, but would miss because they were laughing so hard. "It's their little male thing," Alexis explained as the two girls watched with small grin on their faces. It was the absolutely strangest thing I have ever seen. Well, almost. One of the strangest things I've ever seen.

At any rate, it took them about four minutes to calm down. Soon, everyone was sitting on my bed. It was then I noticed the note again. I picked it up and unfolded it. It was about a quarter of a page and was written in ornate writing.

_Beast Boy_ (went the letter)

_I hope that you find your new room enjoyable. Yes, I know that the paint is chipped (forty-six thousand eight hundred and seventy-three times, to be exact), but it should still be suitable for living. This note has been sent with _Diable_, whom you have presumably met. It may surprise you to learn that I have more then one pupil. It is not so much a school, but a family, albeit a very dysfunctional one. I'm sure you're thinking, 'how is it dysfunctional?' The definition of a dysfunctional family is one that isn't working or functioning properly. Many people have an ideal as to what 'proper' is. They define it as a normal family which does normal things. And the little family which we have accumulated here would definitely not be considered normal. So there you have it. Helena the psychic, Terrance the medieval sorcerer, Alexis the meat-human with abnormal strength, _Diable_ the pyro-kinetic, and myself. With the recent addition of you, of course. That is, if you're willing to stay. If you decide to, Helena will be at your room in the morning to lead you to the training room, where you training will begin. _

I read the letter again carefully. Then I grinned to myself as I looked up to see _Diable_ and Terry bickering about God-know-what, and thought, _Why not? _

_

* * *

_

Unknown's POV

I had nothing but nightmares since I lay my head down on that pillow.

It had nothing to do with the pillow, mind: it was all to do with him. I knew he didn't know I liked him, but I felt shunned all the same. It was horrible. I felt that _I_ was the reason he left, that he did that because he thought that I would want nothing to do with him.

You want to know about my nightmare? It was about him. Killing every single one of the Titans off. He was also wearing Slade's colors, black and orange. He looked like some freak dressed up for Halloween, but one thousand times more dangerous. He took out a pistol and shot down the other Titans. Then he rounded on me, cocked the gun, aimed briefly and fired. I woke up on the floor. I ran to the bathroom where I vomited up the little I had eaten that day.

I leaded on the bathtub for support as I dry-heaved, painful spasms wracking my body. I slowly stood and went over to the sink. I pulled a towel out from the drawer and poured water onto it, watching it soak up the liquid. I ran the cool cloth over my face, down my neck, and across my stomach, allowing the water to soak into the hem of the shorts I wear to bed.

I left the bathroom and walked over to the door. Stealthily I opened it, then snuck out and closed it behind me. I made my way up to the roof where I watched the city's lights flicker on and off.

Mars was the most noticeable thing in the Sky. The Planet of War was no more then a speck of red light in the sky, but it was still very imposing. Around it, swarming by the moon and covering the rest of the night sky were the small twinkles that were the stars. They shone up there so freely. I sighed. I was never going to get over the changeling, whether my feelings towards him were a mere crush as I had first suspected, or true love, or just lust. I would end up waiting for him, standing there for all eternity, never really having a purpose except being there after time had worn on. I would have to wait. I couldn't get over him. I wanted to, but I wasn't given a choice. I had to wait.

At least the stars had to suffer with me. After all, misery loves company.

* * *

**A/N:** How was that? I liked the last part. I don't know where it came from; I just know I love it. This chapter tried to hard. It wanted to be funny, although I don't particularly think it was. And Slade's note was a bit OOC, but I think that this story's going to be putting Slade into a different perspective. Once again, tell me who you thin Unknown was, or if you can't guess, who it should be. And, yet again, I'm sorry that this took so long. This is going to be my last update for a bit, because I have exams coming up, which suck. And I still have to stay in school for like, three weeks after that. I mean, isn't that pointless. Oh well. Review, please!


	3. Chap 2: Borderline

**A/N:** Yet another update for My Personal Hell. This is going to be the first chapter that won't be from a character's POV because I can't do fight scenes in first-person. Or nightmare scenes. Anyway, I know where the plot's going. Yes, I'm going to be talking about BB's time as Slade's apprentice. It'll be a while before he sees the Titans again, and I just wanted to give that impression. But don't worry! It'll still be as interesting as I can make it.  
**A/N:** And about what Diable said in the last chapter. _He's _the homophobe. I can't find a thing wrong with homosexuality, although Diable obviously can. And there is a warning of slight Slade OoC-ness. And I'm taking the italics that I had for Diable's French name off because I found it useless. And I hate my computer: it doesn't let me do multiple exclamation marks anymore.

**ubermann:** I don't know who the unknown is going to be, but it definitely won't be Terra; because when the story started, she was with Slade (hinthint for this chappy). This probably started right before Aftershock, so I'm gonna rewrite history, won't that be fun – or a complete pain in the ass.

**ShadeyMike:** Yep, it's Slade, the misunderstood father figure. If you wanted a reference, I'd say look at the Wizard from the play Wicked: he wanted to be a father. He loved being adored by the citizens so much – as much as Slade loves being feared, I guess – so he plays along with what the others think of him and what he can do. He seems to be something he's not – in the Wizard's case good, in Slade's case evil. But don't you fret your (pretty?) little head about it. He's going to be the same stoic, one-eyed fighter that we all know – but don't necessarily love.

**ANGLEOZD:** thank you! Here's your update!

**vinnie the geek:** Birdboy, eh? Hmm, possibly. You know, I had thought of that. Hmm … (have you noticed I do that 'hmm ...' thing a lot with you? It's your fault!) 'Slade's School for Dysfunctional Kids with Superpowers', eh? I like it. Can I get a whoop whoop? (And a trademark symbol, hehe). Yeah, I knew about the typos …

**sumo bunny:** Thank you! … I think I sent you an e-mail, didn't I?

**Dark Magician of Chaos:** Interesting? Aww, shucks, I don't know what it is! All I know is that I love reviews! **(does the review dance)**

**To those who didn't review:** Meet my dog, Wrex. Wrex, meet lunch. Run! Run from my doggie!

**Disclaimer:** See chapter one. And I don't own bloodoaks or terry vines; they're owned by Paul Stewart, and are a part of the Edge Chronicles, some of the most awesomest (I had to enunciate that _somehow_) books ever, which I don't own either.

**My Personal Hell**

Chapter Two: Borderline

"_There is good, and there is evil. But the line between them can be almost impossible to find."  
_- Robin, 'X'

_There was a slurping noise. A vine wrapped itself around his foot. It pulled gently. "Huh?" he slurred, looking down at the green plant. "What do you want?" he asked drowsily, watching it warily. It tugged again, more persistently. "What d'ya want?" he asked again, the slur in his voice more pronounced. It merely pulled harder. He tried his hardest to remain still, but the next tug was too strong, bringing his feet out from underneath him. His fingers dug into the ground, pulling him towards the trees he hadn't noticed before that stood in the center of the nearby clearing. Another tendril wrapped around his other leg. This one was thicker and bared down its length; barbs that he noticed were digging into his leg, drawing blood. He gasped as pain overwhelmed his senses, causing him to clutch his leg and whimper. That was when he spotted the knife lying on the ground next to him._

_Quickly, he grabbed the weapon and began cutting at the thick vine. 'This seems familiar,' he mused grimly as he hacked at the plant. Other vines, just as thick and sharp as the one he was hacking at, came and wound themselves up both his legs. He found himself being pulled forcefully in the direction of a very large tree. _

_Pilled at the base of the tree were thousands upon thousands of corpses. Big ones, small one, some that looked like they were fresh, flesh still hanging off the bones, others looked like they had been there for a long time, the bones wearing away. At the top of the hill stood the cloaked figure he recognized from his dream. He stared as it approached the tree and petted it as thought it were a large dog. "Are you hungry?" it asked soothingly. He could almost see its sadistic smile as it turned to face him. "Don't worry. I have just the thing for you. Something that hurt us so badly it deserves to be dead." He could feel it glaring at him._

_The vines yanked on him again. He found himself soaring through the air. He came to a swinging halt over the top of the tree. A scent wafted over him, overpowering his senses. It was the atrocious stench of blood and rotted flesh. He gagged emptily. He bent his head to look at the source of the stench. The tree's mouth was lined with thousands of large, pointed teeth, which were arranged in a wide circle. Its mouth was a large crimson gorge that lead straight downwards. The tree slobbered noisily, eagerly awaiting its next meal: him. _

_He swayed in the breeze, hanging upside down above the bloodthirsty tree, and it had complete power over when he would fall. It held his life in its tendrils, ready to drop it at the slightest sudden movement. The cloaked figure came up beside the tree. "How does it feel, to know your doom, pain and suffering is inevitable? How does it feel to know pain and suffering will plague you from now until you die? How does it feel?" he opened his mouth to respond, when the figure interrupted him. "No, I don't want to hear it from you: your screams will be answer enough. You forget,_ I know your pain_."_ _And with that, the tree dropped him. _

_He tumbled down through the air for a second, flipping over to be right side up, when he felt himself land in the tree's throat. The tree's teeth clashed dangerously close to his head, nearly hitting him. He felt a pressure on his lungs as the air was forced out of them. Only his head was exposed to the world, the rest of his body inside the tree's throat. His head was covered in the plant's saliva. He felt himself sliding under …_

_… under … _

_… under …_

_… under …_

_… until he was in the complete darkness of the tree's throat. _

_The intensity of the blood's stench was intoxicating. He couldn't stand it. The pressure on his bones was causing them to crack. He couldn't breathe, he could barely move. Whenever he did inhale, it was spasmodic, rapidly, and he only got the smallest amount of air. Though he knew there was a chance that someone might hear him, he refused to scream. That would just make it worse. _

_There was a loud **CRR-RAA-AKK!** as his bones snapped. First his arm, then several of his ribs, followed by one of his legs. For each bone that broke, there was a sickening crack, just like the first time. It sent shivers up his spine and waves of pain throughout his body. Darkness seeped into the edges of his vision, but he refused to scream. He didn't want to give the cloaked figure the pleasure of knowing the pain it was causing him._

_**C-CRR-RAA-AAAKK!**_

_Several more of his ribs snapped, followed by his remaining arm. He whimpered, biting his lip to keep the screams from forcing their way out of his mouth. There was a final, blood curdling, unbelievable loud and painful _**CRRR-RRAAA-AAAKK!**_, and he knew his neck had snapped. The figure's maniacal laughter was drowned out by his painful screams._

Beast Boy hit the floor with a _thud_ as he cried out in pain. His back, arms, and one leg were on fire. He gasped, breathing heavily as sweat trickled down his neck and shoulders. His eyes wide, he glanced around the room. He felt his stomach lurch. He heavily lifted his body off the floor, using the bed to help bring himself to a stand. He breathed deeply through his nose, but it was no use. The bloodthirsty tree's stench was still fresh in his mind and nose. Overcome by a sudden wave on nausea, he staggered into the bathroom.

Leaning heavily on the bathtub, he leaned over the toilet. He heaved, his last meal leaving his stomach. He continued this until his stomach was completely empty, and he was gagging emptily over the toilet with his throat burning and tears were welling up in his eyes from the pain. His body shook, his hands trembled, and his legs could barely support his weight. He moved to the sink, turning on the tap and drinking directly from it. He then turned off the tap and dropped to the floor.

He groaned, crawling on his hands and knees back to his bed. He pulled himself onto it. He looked over to his bedside table. From it, he picked up a novel entitled, _Beyond the Deepwoods_ and glared at it accusingly. "'S all your fault," he told it, his voice little more than a slurred whisper. Now he knew why the dream had seemed so familiar. Putting the nightmare-inducing book the Helena had given him back on the table, he closed his eyes and was immediately asleep.

But what if it _wasn't_ the book that had given him the nightmare?

-------------

The pounding on the door was what woke him from his dreamless slumber. "Beast Boy?" a voice called, "you have to get up if you're in there." More pounding and a slight creak as the door swung open about a foot. "Beast Boy, if you're here you're going to hafta get out of bed _sometime_ today." There was a pause in which Helena walked over to the bed. "Beast Boy?" she asked gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. She moved so that he mouth was right next to his ear, her gentle breath tickling his neck. She took a deep breath. "YOU'VE GOT TO GET UP NOW!"

With a jolt, Beast Boy sat up, only to fall off his bed. "Oww …" he groaned, rolling onto his back. "What was that for?" he asked groggily.

"You have to get up," answered Helena, walking over to the chair where he'd left his uniform from the previous night. He glared at the telekinetic girl. Not that she could tell, seeing as he was still wearing his mask. It was made even harder to see by the fact that she threw his shirt and pants over his head.

Beast Boy angrily pulled his uniform off his head. "Who gets up at …" he looked at the clock. "_Five o'clock in the morning!_"

Helena smirked. "You were asking for it when you decided to stay," she told him as he pulled his pants on. "I'll be outside. I'll show you the way to the kitchen."

Once his uniform was on, he walked out into the hall. Beast Boy followed Helena down a maze of twisting tunnels and winding passageways until they reached the magnificent dining room. Its high-arched windows allowed large amounts of sunlight to pour into the main part of the room. The table was about two-thirds of the length of the room, and was made of solid black wood. Seated around it were Diable, Alexis, Terry, and a somewhat familiar blonde girl …

Diable waved from his spot near the table's head. "I saved you a seat," he said. Beast Boy walked over and sat in the offered chair. Diable passed him a plate that consisted of an apple, orange juice, and a piece of toast.

"Erm, thanks," Beast Boy said awkwardly.

The blonde looked up from her seat and watched the newcomer with hollow, blue eyes. Her curtain of hair swayed with her head movement. He sounded so familiar … but it was nothing to dwell on. She had left of her own free will. It was her fault. She stared down at her plate, tears silently streaming down her face. She sniffed, and the volume of her soft sobs intensified ever so slightly. However, the table's occupant's heard her.

Helena noticed Beast Boy's discomfort. "Don't worry 'bout it," she said, her voice amazingly coherent through her mouthful of pancakes. "Blondie has her little breakdowns all the time. You learn to ignore them," she assured him. Beast Boy, however, couldn't ignore the noise. It thundered through his head. It echoed through his skull. The soft wails became increasingly irritating, harder and harder to listen to –

He growled fiercely, thoroughly annoyed. Long, sharp claws extended through his gloves with a soft _riiipp_ and embedding themselves in the delicate wood below. The blonde's tears stopped. Everyone looked up at him. He blushed, and futilely began to try to remove his nails from the table. Futilely, of course. No matter how hard he pulled, his nails stuck fast.

The blonde sniffed. She watched as the newcomer breathed in deeply, and was shocked when she saw the five-inch nails retract into his fingers, slowly but surely. For the first time, she looked him over thoroughly. She'd thought it was just his hair that was green at first, but now that she looked closer, she noticed the skin on the other parts of his face were green as well. His eyes were impossible to see – if not because of the mask he wore, then because he kept his eyes averted.

There was a creak as the door was slowly pushed open, allowing Slade to enter. He stood in front of the doorway, watching the group eat breakfast. Once he was sure he had their attention, he motioned for Terrance, Diable, Helena, Alexis, and the blonde to follow him, leaving Beast Boy all by his lonesome.

After a few minutes of silence, the door was opened again. This time, a middle-aged, pale man stepped towards the table in a plain, white lab coat. His footsteps echoed around the chamber. He stopped in front of Beast Boy. "So," he began casually. Beast Boy looked up. "You're Slade's new apprentice," the man finished.

Beast Boy nodded. "And you're?"

"Wintergreen," the man said, holding out a hand for the changeling to shake. Warily, the changeling took the hand in his own. "Master Slade wishes for me to take you to the weapons room," Wintergreen explained.

Beast Boy had to jog to keep up with the elderly man's fast pace. "Weapons room? What's that?"

Wintergreen sniffed. "It's a room with weapons in it. I thought that would be obvious."

Beast Boy shook his head. "No, I mean, why?"

Wintergreen appeared to be assessing him, as if deciding if he was worth the knowledge he was about to share with him. Finally, he said, "Do you honestly think that you would be able to use your powers for all the fighting you do? All fighters have to be trained in many fighting styles to be well-rounded." And with that, Wintergreen was back to moving down the hallway via his march-like gait, leaving Beast Boy to catch up with him.

-------------

The weapons room was more like a weapons house/museum. It had every sort of weapon, from the maces of the time of the knights of yore, to the primitive spears of the cavemen, to the machine guns of the time. Every single one of them glinted with polish, most likely courtesy of Wintergreen. A lance's fine wood point gleamed in the half-light, looking like it had been recently used because of its red tint. A scythe's curved head glinted a wicked crimson all along its blade and partially down the handle.

Beast Boy shivered. The room was beginning to creep him out. And he had come face-to-face with Plasmius. He slowly walked through the center of the room until he was standing next to Wintergreen. The elderly man surveyed the medley of weaponry until finally choosing a black, metal spear. Carefully, he pulled it off the wall and lifted its butt to eye-level. Deeming it … um, whatever he deemed it, he handed it to Beast Boy.

"Have you learned spear craft?" Wintergreen asked, watching as Beast Boy did an examination of his own.

Beast Boy, who was spinning the spear expertly in the same manner that Robin twirled his bo staff, nodded absent-mindedly. "When I was living in a small village in Africa as a child, my dad taught me the basics."

Wintergreen smiled, but only ever so slightly. "As soon as Slade returns, your training will commence."

-------------

_Drip. _

_Drip. _

_Drip. _

_Drip._

The abandoned warehouse downtown was normally unoccupied during the average early morning. It was so silent that you could hear the water dripping slowly down from the ceiling. Of course, with Slade using it as a meeting point, it wouldn't be silent for long.

Slade surveyed the teens before him. On first glance, they looked – and sounded – the part for your average teen movie: the gay, the foreign guy, the Gothic chick, the tomboy, and the traumatized girl. But, for all it was worth, if you bet that, Slade was definitely getting you money, because they were closer then the closest friends. Their bond was almost a sibling one. They bickered, spent endless hours watching movies together, and sometimes just hung out in each others' rooms.

Terrance, who would be the gay, appeared anything but. He was trained in the arts of dark magic, summoning, and illusion-conjuring. Diable, appearing as the foreign guy, was obviously not American. He had a thick French accent, but despite it spoke very accurate English. He was a master at his craft, pyrokinesis. Helena, your average Goth, was a telekinetic, levitator, and a mind-reader. Technically, she cheated by knowing her enemy's moves before they did, but that had little effect on her concience. And Alexis, the tomboy. A meta-human blessed with super strength; she could take on a panicked bull elephant and come out on top in a mater of minutes. Last, there was the blonde. Slade disliked her _immensely_. He hated even thinking about her. She was just so …

For the first time, he addressed the team. "Alexis, you and Helena are to take the north end of town. Raid as many shops as you like, heaven know you could do with a new wardrobe," he added in a sarcastic mutter. At this, Helena stuck her tongue out at him. "Diable, you take the East. Terrance, the west." He turned to the blonde. "You, take the bay."

"What is it, Slade, I'm not good enough for you tosay my name?" the blonde asked.

Slade faced her one last time before answering. "No. I just have an appointment."

"With whom?" she asked, sounding only _slightly_ more curious then impudent.

Slade walked away, calling behind him, "My new apprentice."

-------------

Thrust, lunge, twist, kick, step, and swipe. Punch, dodge, slide, and swipe.

That's what Beast Boy hated about improvised training routines. They never really helped in the field.

Beast Boy was in the training room Wintergreen had taken him to after giving him the spear. He was practicing as much as he could remember of the routine his father had taught him with a serious, stubborn look on him face. He swung the spear round and kicked, before ducking, rolling, and coming around with a slice of the staff that would have taken out his enemy's knees. He then came around with a blow that would have concussed his opponent, and most likely knocked them out.

As he stood, he heard a voice address him. "Very nicely done, apprentice," reached his ears in Slade's unmistakable drawl. He didn't respond, having a feeling that that wasn't all that Slade had to say. "Of course, it was only excellent by a _beginner's_ standards," Slade continued. "But you do have potential. With further training, you could probably take on Batman, and maybe even be a worthy opponent for Terrance." Slade paused, perhaps to ponder the finish of this statement, or perhaps just for effect. Either way, he finished with, "And possibly me."

Beast Boy turned to see Slade resting by the door, his bo staff resting lightly in his hand. The masked man made his way lazily across the floor, taking long, easy strides that would have looked somewhat unreal or exaggerated on anyone else. Anyone else. Slade made the movement natural – dark, sinister, malevolent even, but natural nonetheless.

In what seemed like an elongated instant, Slade was standing directly before Beast Boy. He nodded towards his apprentice's spear and took a ready position, legs spread, with one slightly in front of the other, and arms raised, his bo staff ready to block any attacks on his torso. "All I want you to do is fight back. Don't use your powers; just fight as hard as you can, for as long as you can." And with that, Slade attacked.

Beast Boy barely had time to doge before the fist connected with the wall behind him. He brought his spear up only to find that Slade was lashing in from the side. He brought his spear up to block it, but he was too slow. The bo staff hit him in the side, knocking the wind out of him. It caused him to fall, but it gave him ample time to roll out from under Slade's downward strike. There was an empty _clang!_ as his master's weapon hit the tiled floor.

Beast Boy leaned on his palm, using it to push his body upright. But he was too slow. Slade grabbed his right arm and flung him about, his momentum hurling him into the far wall. But in a second he was back on his feet, and was charging at Slade. He raised his staff sideways, so that instead of trying to pierce his master, he would end up with their weapons locked. With a muffled _klang!_ the weapons collided, Slade's staff above Beast Boy's. Slade forced the smaller male to his knees, before kneeing Beast Boy in the chest and effectively knocking the wind out of him.

"Oomph," Beast Boy gasped as he fell on his back. He rolled away from Slade's next downward attack a second before it would have hit. Slade followed up, hitting Beast Boy on the side of his head, nearly knocking him out. Clutching his bruised temple, Beast Boy dashed in a four-legged lope across the room, Slade walking behind him in lazy, yet fluid and steady movements, a slight smile on his face. Slade watched, amused, as his apprentice brought himself to his feet, ready for another attack. Beast Boy's eyes dashed to the spear a few feet from him. Slade registered the movement, and figured his plan several seconds before its initiation.

Slade didn't flinch as his apprentice feinted to the right before following through with a fluid lunge to the left. But instead of bypassing him master, like he had planned, he found himself pushed against the wall, his cheek rubbing against the cold stone. Slade had Beast Boy's arm twisted behind his back, and his other pinned beneath his knee. The twisted arm could snap at any moment, Beast Boy registered. He pulled his arm towards where Slade's hand gripped the ready-to-break arm. Slade noticed his apprentice's intentions, but misread them. Using his forearm to pin the twisted arm down, he grabbed the slinking arm by the hand. Beast Boy managed a half grin. He'd gotten lucky, he knew, as he unleashed his long claws into his master's flesh.

Slade jerked back in surprise, a yelp of pain escaping his lips. In a second, Beast Boy had whirled around, his fist connecting with Slade's mask where his cheekbone would have been. Slade stumbled further backwards before righting himself. This gave Beast Boy just enough time to grab his spear and bring it to a ready position. Slade, after pausing only for a brief second before lunging, brought his weapon down to meet his apprentice's. This time, Beast Boy didn't fall to his knees, but rather twisted the staff away from his master's grip, sending it flying across the room. For a brief moment, Beast Boy thought that victory was in sight. Then, to his horror, he realized that Sladehad his bo staff in his iron grasp, well it was _his_ spear that had been sent careening into the wall.

Slade lunged, his fist poised for attack. Feebly, Beast Boy raised his arms to block. But it was proved futile as Slade landed blow after blow after blow. Beast Boy was kicked into the wall, punched in the stomach, thrown to the floor. There was a sickening _crack!_ as his elbow hit the floor. Possibly it was broken. He heaved himself up, using his arm as a support, yelping loudly when Slade grabbed said damaged elbow to pull him roughly to his feet. The stoic, pale blue eye bored into his soul. "And you were doing so well," his master murmured, and Beast Boy flinched. Hell was coming.

A black-clad fist was raised, and there was a millisecond pause as Slade assessed the correct angle. Then the fist snapped forward, causing Beast Boy's head to jerk backwards. His master released the front of his uniform, allowing him to fall to the floor limply, cradling his broken elbow. Slade eyed the beaten green being before him impassively. His pivoted, leaving the apprentice alone with a forced, "we're done here for today." Those words barely made their way through Beast Boy's confused brain as he tried to hold in sobs.

"You lasted longer then some."

Beast Boy looked up, spotting the watcher for the first time. Wintergreen stood at the doorway. He looked like he was considering applauding, but his face was emotionless. He came forward, and helped the broken apprentice to his feet. "Come now, we'll have you fixed up not a moment too soon," he muttered comfortingly, allowing the apprentice to fall into a peaceful slumber as he carried him to the infirmary.

-------------

The Mall at the north end of Jump City was a rather large place. It was filled with over a dozen shops of each kind of business: traveling, cooking, bookstores. Not to mention the sheer number of clothing lines would make your average shopaholic believe that they'd died and gone to heaven. Normally, there were hundreds of people there, even during the weekdays. Thus, it was very odd that the Mall was empty on a Sunday, when it was normally at its peak of business. Well, it wasn't exactly _empty_. There were two people there. One was a tall, tan girl with oily black hair and dark green eyes walked out, stylish, hip-hugger jean fitted on his plain figure. She stood outside _Hot_, obviously waiting for a companion.

Alexis tapped her foot angrily. "Helena, you've been in there for eternity and a day. What in God's name are you looking for!" She yelled impatiently.

"I'm just trying this skirt on."

"You said that an _hour_ ago."

"That was a different skirt."

Alexis huffed, annoyed. "Look, as much as I _love_ wasting my life like this," sarcasm, "We have a job to do."

"Yeah, yeah, I know, kick Titan ass to Kingdom Come. But really, Daddy _said_ I could get a new wardrobe."

"Cut the 'Daddy _said_' crap and get out here! They could be here any minute." As if to emphasize this, Alexis looked back and forth around the mall pointedly. But there was still obviously no one there.

"Okay, I'm coming," Helena said, walking out of the store. She was still clad in her uniform, but there was a bag under her arm. "But they're not going to be able to come after us for a while now, seeing as they're down one teammate, and they're probably not going to split up."

There was a beeping noise. Alexis fished a plain, black cell phone out of her pocket. It was custom design, as anyone with eyes could tell. And there was a crimson 'S' figure emblazoned on its back. She flipped it open and watched the video screen. A face appeared on it. Helena looked on from behind Alexis's shoulder.

"Hi, Daddy," she addressed Slade in an exaggeratedly-happy voice.

Slade managed to glare at Helena. "Do enjoy annoying me?" Helena stuck her tongue out. Slade sighed. "Where are you?"

"At the center of the Mall, like you told us," said Alexis, her face serious.

"Come on, Do you _have _to be so serious _all _the time?" Helena asked.To emphasize what a bore Alexis was, she stepped back and began to twirl around the room. There was no joyful smile on her face, though. Alexis could tell that she was taking this seriously.

"Quit your dancing, your embarrassing me," Alexis ordered.

Helena grinned half-heartedly. "I'm embarrassing myself," she admitted sheepishly.

Slade smiled slightly, glad to see his 'daughter' having fun. "Have the Titans arrived yet?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Let _us_ answer that for you," a voice from the shadows mocked. Out stepped the four remaining Teen Titans. Robin stood at the head of the formation, his bo staff poised for battle. Starfire floated behind him, her fisted hands glowing green because of the starbolts she was ready to fire. Cyborg had his sonic cannon raised, charging loudly. Raven floated above them, her hands covered with dark energy.

Helena smirked. "Well, did you come here to stare, or do you want." A several stores ripped themselves out of the building's structure, causing it to teeter dangerously. "To." Helena pulled her arms back, and the buildings followed her movements, ready to strike the Titans. "Dance!" she shouted, trusting her arms forward. The buildings flew at the teenaged superheroes.

The Titans barely managed to dive out of the way, but the buildings missed them and flew through the far wall to the outside. Starfire was the first up. She lunged at Alexis, using her Tamaranean strength against the girl. Instead of going to her knees as Starfire had thought she would, Alexis not only matched Starfire, she managed to throw Starfire through the opening in the wall.

Meanwhile, Raven had unsuccessfully tried to attack Helena. It almost seemed like a game, the way one of them would throw an object and the other would block it with a shield. Helena took Raven by surprise when she threw several vending machines at Cyborg as well. Raven didn't manage a shield in time, resulting in the both of them being buried in pop cans.

Robin lunged at Alexis, but she caught the blow, and although Robin was on guard, Alexis was at least ten times stronger then a raging bull elephant. She threw him clean across the room.

Helena and Alexis regrouped in a far-off corner of the mall. Alexis whipped open her cell phone/communicator. "How are Terry and Diable fairing?" she asked.

"They have their part of the plan done. They're ready to meet the Titans. Split them up." Slade ordered.

Both girls nodded. "Alexis, you find Diable. I'll take the rest of them to Terry. And let's hope that the tower is taken care of before they catch us," Helena turned away, levitating several feet above the ground. She paused. She turned back to the other girl. "Be careful." And with that, she was gone.

-------------

Diable laughed. His dark laughter mingled with the screams of terrified citizens. In truth, he _was_ enjoying himself. Nothing gave him a bigger thrill then the adrenaline rush he got from attacking the possibilities of being caught. The possibility that he could be tortured to talk.

Fires blazed around him. The heat was consuming. The towering walls of flame were all around. The burning structures, teetering, groaning, threatening to topple down on him. Well, their threats fell on deaf ears. Diable had a resistance to flames – to a certain extent. He didn't enjoy thinking about that. It was like knowing that you student had more power then you and could kill you in an instant – and the order would have came from you. Then the student would tear you limb from limb, and all you'd be able to smell was charred flesh, only hear you bloodcurdling shrieks, only see the white-hot flames as the burnt away at your soul …

Inadvertently, Diable shuddered. He was pulled out of his reverie by a tap on his shoulder. He turned to find Alexis waiting for him, fanning herself with her hands. "How can you stand all this _heat_?" she asked in obvious discomfort. Diable ignored her whining, concentrating on the approaching figures in the distance. There were two of them; one fly high above the other's head, her hands glowing green in the smoke. The other was large and muscled, running at top speed, his head whipping furiously left and right.

Diable frowned. _Titans_, he thought, his mind hissing. Jealousy raged. How could they be bigger freaks then him! He had saved more people then they _ever_ would … But it didn't matter. They loved the Titans, the beautiful alien, the angst-ridden half-demon, the car-loving cyborg, and their circus-reject leader. And, of course, the fun-loving changeling. For the first time, Diable smiled at the thought of the Titans – or rather, the thought of the Titans' reactions to Beast Boy crossing the line. When he did. There was no if in it. Slade would get to the green boy – it was only a matter of time before either Slade – or the boy's nightmares – broke him.

That's right. Slade was right. Patience was a virtue. So Diable would wait, as would Alexis. Wait for the Titans to come to them – to find them. Exhausted a weary, they would stumbled across them, to tired to fight from the flames' pressing heat. Then they would be dead. _Or so I hope_, Diable thought wryly, pulling Alexis up the stair of a burning building, and praying that it wouldn't collapse.

-------------

Terrance watched the moving shadows. He watched them draw nearer. The dark Titan, he knew, possessed demon magic – that could be a problem. The boy wonder would cause trouble to – unless he used a little spell here, a little hex there …

Unfortunately, he couldn't bring himself to do that to Robin. He tried to imagine torturing the boy, time and time again, to prove he didn't care, but those daydreams turned into … wet, daydreams, he guessed. Wet daydreams in the shower. And normally, it was more torturous for him, seeing as he stopped the dreams when they were getting good. He would moan, and thrust, dreaming of those calloused hands running along his body, and feel that he was betraying his master and his friends – and the changeling would feel that it was weird, him having a crush on one of the green boy's past friends. Being homosexual had outcasted him enough, but having a crush on the Titans' _straight_ leader, well, that was just wishful dreaming.

He buried himself deeper in the shadows after hearing Raven's voice address Robin, "Well, she's not here. That little witch tricked us." The girl was trying – and failing – to hide her anger. A nearby garbage can twisted on itself, surrounded by black energy.

"No Raven, I know she went this way – into the alley." Robin couldn't have known that this simple statement caused Terry's heart to skip a beat – then speed up to an unbelievable pace. Robin, the boy wonder, was going to come into the alley he was in. He was probably going to end up fighting said boy wonder – and what a wonder he was –

Terry shook his head, unwilling to let himself think such thoughts. The sixteen-year-old crouched back further in the shadows, waiting for either Helena or Alexis. He realized that it was the former when silver energy – Helena's telekinesis – surrounded a lamppost and threw it at the pair of them. Robin jumped out of the way, while Raven created a shield around herself. The lamppost rebounded of the shield, Helena just catching it before it hit her. Raven threw a newspaper stand at the other telekinetic with a yelled, "Azarath, Metrion, _Zinthos_!"

People ran, screaming, in every direction imaginable, not wanting to be hit be a flying object gone astray. Robin ran towards the dark girl, intent on helping her, when Terry decided it was time to make his move. He lunged at the Titans' leader, throwing his weight on the smaller teenager. They tussled, punching at each other, rolling across the street all the while. They bumped into a building after a while, bringing their fight to a pause, as Terry realized something. _Oh, Gods …_

They were in a _very_ compromised position – Terry straddling the boy wonder, sitting on him just above the abdomen … Terry fell off Robin, unwilling to give his sexual fantasies a chance to kick in. Robin was confused, but decided to pass it off as good luck. The two of them quickly took up their fighting stances. "You came looking for a fight?" Robin asked, a smirk forming on his lips.

_And what delicious lips they are_, Terry thought. "'Cause I definitely found one?" He mocked, and was delighted to see the boy wonder frown, even if it wasn't a pout, he lips were still delicious. "Really, Robin, you need to think of better one-liners," he paused before adding, "But you couldn't think up could one-liners to save your life, could you?" He wanted to see if that would piss the boy wonder off.

It didn't. But Robin still charged at him, staff raised. Terry chanted a shield spell, happy with the shocked expression on Robin's face when his weapon met with the sparkling guard. Immediately, Terry brought his foot around in a powerful kick, sending Robin back several feet. He had also successfully knocked the boy wonder's staff away. "Come on, Robin, is that all you've got?" Terry asked mockingly.

He would continue to pull at the boy wonder's strings. Slade always said Robin was quick to rise to the bait. Most of the time he was calm and controlled, but when you got him riled up, you had better watch out. He would bait, throw snide remarks, and hopefully, the boy wonder would be baited into bringing out his full potential. Because Terry wanted to go against Robin at his finest, to prove to Slade that he was better then Batman's protégé, and would always be, dark magic or no dark magic.

-------------

_He was walking along a thin line, and both sides were chanting at him. The line was painted along the ground, and was the same color as the dirt, so he had to look very hard to spot it. On both sides of there were two opposing armies, holding banners high above their heads. _

_He looked to his left. Standing there, waiting for him, were Terry, Helena, Diable, Alexis, and Slade. They watched him. With them stood Red X, Jinx, Gizmo (wasn't he dead? He mused thoughtfully), Trident, Cinderblock, Overload, Trigon … the list of villains went on and on. The banner they supported had intricate, delicate writing on it, proclaiming,_ Fighting for a Selfish Cause. _Beast Boy was confused for a second, before remembering villains did things that benefited for them and them only. _

_He looked to his right. Standing there, watching his passage with hurt, begging eyes, were Robin, Raven , Starfire, Cyborg, Aqualad, Speedy, Hotshot, Wildebeast, Static, Batman, Wonder Woman, Superman, Green Lantern, the Flash, Hawkgirl … the vigilantes went on forever, many of which he didn't recognize. The banner they held proclaimed,_ Fighting for a Hopeless Cause. _This took him longer to figure out, but he realized that no matter how many villains the heroes lock away, they'd never catch all the wrongdoers. _

_"Don't you see Beast Boy?" a voice asked. He looked up. Standing in front of him was a creature with green skin, wide dragon wings, and a long, spiked tail. Its eyes glowed in the darkness. _

_"Don't I see what?" Beast Boy asked, confused. _

_"You think you've been I the line the whole time, but there isn't a line! You've just been keeping away from both sides!" The figure yelled. The sudden outburst alarmed Beast Boy, seeing as he had thought the figure was a calm person. "You need to choose a side, because _wake up! _There is no border, there is no line, just two groups opposing each other, and everyone who gets in the way." It walked forward, down where Beast Boy had though the line would be. "So hurry up and make that decision: you don't have all eternity."_

_Beast Boy blinked. He guessed it was right. There was no line, just to sides fighting for opposing causes. _

_And he needed to pick one.

* * *

_

**A/N:** So, what do you think? I like it, especially Terrance's part. So, should I go back to first person, or keep the rest of the fic in third? Don't hurt me, I was only experimenting. But summer's finally here, and guess what that means? QUICKER UPDATES! Whoot! So, you know what to do: click that pretty little button and tell what you think, otherwise I won't know.


	4. Chap 3: Nighttime Visions

**A/N:** The long-awaited chapter three! Yay! Well, here it is. Hope you like it. The quote is about dreams turning out to not be so great, if you can't really get it (although you probably DO get it). And since no one commented on my use of third-person, I shall continue with my usage of it. Also, please inform me if you think my OCs are turning into Mary-Sues and Gary-Stus. (btw, I have no clue if I should have taken out the, erm, questionable homosexual content. But I left it in; I originally wrote it there and nothing else would be so completely fitting as it is. Sorry if it's not to your taste, and please try to stomach it.)

**Disclaimer: **I only own Terry, Diable, Helena, and Alexis. And that little fly that will soon become many flies which I will use to take over the world! Muhahahahahahahah! cough I even stole that beast …

**My Personal Hell**

Chapter Three: Nighttime Visions

"_I was deprived of a young girl's dream by the cruel force from the blue. Instead of a night full of romance supreme all I got was a runny nose and Asiatic flu."_

- 'It's Raining on Prom Night', Grease

Slade watched. The border of the city – well, just inside the border of the city, was completely empty. The only place with human activity in Jump was the center. Of course, those citizens had no idea that the outskirts of the City were empty. Life went on there as it normally does, children late for school, people rushing to work. Little did they know that in a few short hours their precious city would be a ghost town. And the Titans would have lost – and, in a way, so would have Batman.

Slade had faced Batman before, but the so called 'Dark Knight' had always come out on top. Soon Slade was just fighting to beat Batman, not because the vigilante had stopped his plans. Once he got away – when he moved to Jump, he had seen Robin, the Bat's student. It was a perfect opportunity to show up Bats – by making his charge, who had been trained to protect humanity, kill the prominent figures of it. But that had backfired. Horribly. All because of his petty little friends. So Slade had moved to his backup plan: beat them. Bad.

Slade's four apprentices – Terrance, Diable, Alexis, and Helena – were, supposedly, stronger then the Titans. Slade didn't know for sure, but they seemed strong enough.

Terrance, who had been trained from age eight, could match Slade's skill for almost four hours, the last time he'd been clocked. The dark magician and the boy wonder weren't that different, Slade mused as he watched them wrestle, both very evenly matched. Their pasts were almost the same, which surprised the mercenary. Terrance had been raised doing magic at a carnival, but had been kicked out when his parents were arrested and killed by the police on a homicide charge, which it was found out later that they were innocent of. He had wandered around the streets, a sad, lost little boy doing small magics for spare change. That was when Slade had found him. He had taken in the boy, fed him, clothed him, trained him – and more importantly, helped him get revenge, thusly earning the boy's unwavering loyalty.

Diable Slade had found after he'd been kicked out of his apartment for being a meta-human. He'd moved there from France, where he'd stayed at several arts schools. The boy was a trained actor, which helped in Slade's purposes and heists. When needed, the boy could lie, cheat, and even seduce, if necessary. He never muddled his speech, making everything sound rehearsed. His accent always made him seem more innocent, too, which Slade found odd, but he never complained at the stroke of luck. He'd accepted the boy with open arms, introducing him to others of his kind. The boy was elated to find other 'freaks' like himself, but became jealous when he'd heard about the Titans. He thought the Titans were bigger freaks then he was – at least he _looked _human – but yet, they were accepted so much more readily then he was. He thought it wasn't fair that they were so readily accepted by the society that had rejected him. His emotions, partly jealousy and partly anger, fueled his fires even further.

Then there was Alexis. The meta-human had been given her abilities by Wayne Industries in an attempt – and failure – to make a Superman clone that was completely devoid of personality. The only ability she'd gotten was super-strength, like another had only gotten flight. But she was, in theory, at least three-times stronger then Superman. Slade had never gotten a chance to test out that theory. She'd had her strength since she was five, but hadn't been out in the real world until she was fourteen. That was when Slade had found out about her. He'd gone down to the testing labs in the dead of night and brought her back to his base of operations. She hated the laboratory, and was grateful for the rescue, but hadn't wanted to stick around. She'd thought otherwise after Diable had saved her from the scientist who'd come back to claim her. The two were smitten, as much they denied it, Slade thought with a wiry smile.

The final joiner of their group – excluding the addition of Beast Boy – was the telekinetic named Helena. Slade was, as much as he hated to admit it, slightly uncomfortable around her. He knew barely anything about her past. He knew just enough to sooth his suspicions, but he was still cautious around the girl. He knew, for a fact, that the girl wasn't entirely human – but he was sure that she wasn't demon either, unlike Raven. The girl could read minds, for fuck's sake. All that Slade really knew about her was that he'd met her in a dingy club and she'd healed Terrance's wounds after a particularly gruesome battle. Her brains, and mind-reading talents, had come in handy in many tight spots, and Slade knew he relied on them much more then he should.

The changeling, however, was a completely new concept to Slade. He knew beast Boy was fun-loving by nature, but there was a deeper darkness about him – something, Slade knew, that could be explored, and possibly harnessed for his purposes. Slade sighed, knowing he could never bring himself to do so. In time, just like _all_ the others, he would come to like the boy. It always happened. He never strived for it, he never had, it just _happened_. No matter what he did, no matter what he wanted, after time he couldn't see his apprentices as merely tools. After time, he saw them as _family_. _Our own little dysfunctional family_, Slade thought, chuckling as he remembered the note he'd written to Beast Boy.

He knew quite a bit about the shape-shifter. First off, he knew Beast Boy's actual name was Garfield Logan. He had been born to Mark and Mary Logan, Mark being a genetic scientist and president of Logan Estate genetic Research Facilities. It was because of him that his son had gained his animal morphing abilities. Earlier, Slade thought that Beast Boy's abilities were limited to existing animals. Slade knew now that they still were, but Beast Boy could now _mix_ different parts of the animals together to create new ones. Slade smiled, thinking of the possibilities. The sky was the limit – no, Slade chided himself; Beast Boy could turn into alien animals as well. So there really was no limit in what Slade could do with his new apprentice's powers.

Slade stood suddenly. "World domination!" he yelled to the non-existent crowd, and he could almost hear their silent cheering. "Random destruction!" he imagined the cheering intensifying. "Universal control!" the cheering would be so loud that his ear drums would ring. "Death to the Justice League!" the cheering made the chairs shake and the keyboard rattle on its stand.

To the average onlooker, Slade would've seemed insane, and the nearest asylum would have been contacted immediately. But to others who knew Slade on a more personal level, they would've known that this was normal for the malevolent criminal mastermind. He was simply shouting out the possibilities to figure out which choice was the best. That way he would know what to plan, had to counter counter-attacks, and how to trap his prey where it needed to be trapped. It just took one moment of lack of sanity for the mastermind to start a new endeavor.

But right now, Slade had to concentrate on this plan.

He settled down in front of the monitor cat-style, and one wouldn't have been surprised to see him pull a bowl of popcorn out of nowhere and begin eating the tasty treat. Of course, the fact that the Titans were locked in a semi-epic battle didn't help. But if they only knew what Slade had planned …. Then they would be shaking in their spandex booties. Noticeably

-------------

Starfire flew towards where the young girl had been headed. She knew it was a desolate part of town, referred to by many as the 'ghetto'. Normally it was quiet, but she had expected some noise – not the eerie, crackling silence that greeted her. The land seemed almost dead. The only noise, aside form the slight crackling in the air, was Cyborg's heavy footsteps, muffled slightly by the dust on the ground. Starfire flew down next to him, landing softly, her delicate feet resting slightly on the ground for a moment each as she skipped along next to the cybernetic human. They walked in silence for a while before Starfire spoke.

"I am worried," she stated simply.

"About what Star?" Cyborg asked, turning to look at the redhead.

Starfire paused before continuing. "About friend Robin. Ever since Terra revealed herself to be a traitor, he has been keeping to himself more often – and now that Beast Boy has disappeared …" she let her sentence hang, but Cyborg caught her meaning.

"Don't worry, Star, everything's going to be alright. You'll see …" Cyborg comforted the alien, murmuring soft words of solace in her ears.

"Yes," Starfire said after a minute, "I suppose that every cloud has a silver linen. "

"That's silver _lining_, Star –" Cyborg stopped abruptly, Starfire nearly bumping into him. "Holy shit," Cyborg murmured, as Starfire gasped.

The entire ghetto before them was in flames. Completely and utterly _burning_, in the deepest sense of the word. It was covered with towering walls of fire. Most of the buildings were covered with flames or completely burnt down, but the few that weren't were teetering dangerously on their foundations. The ground was covered with smoldering corpses, sometimes piled high, sometime ripped into pieces. Some were merely bones, lying on the ground – charred skulls, burnt spines, snapped fibulas.

Starfire was completely shocked – she felt like someone had thrown a brick wall in her face. She stood there, unable to move, in a trance as she watched the flames dance around the destruction they had wrought. When she spoke, she stuttered. "Sh-should we n-not be l-looking for the g-g-girl?" she asked, her voice little more then a fearful squeak.

When Cyborg replied, his voice was not at all the same loud, exuberant friendly tone one would recognize, but instead a quiet, hushed voice that, all in all, gave one more reason to be afraid then his normal aggressive tone. "Y-yeah, Star, I think that we should get moving."

The pair walked forward, keeping their eyes peeled, looking for the female criminal who was running from them. The came across a small shelter that had, at one point, house several homeless people – now completely burned. "What kind of heartless life form could do such a thoughtless, mean thing?" asked Starfire, but her eyes widened in realization after a moment. "Slade," she hissed, her eyes narrowing at the thought of the man who had almost taken Robin – _her­_ Robin – away from the Titans for good. "We shall find his new henchmen and take them to prison, even if it takes –" her dramatic monologue-esq speech was cut short by her communicator beeping. Cyborg couldn't stifle his snigger.

Starfire brought the communicator up to her face. "What is it?" she asked.

The person who had contacted her – Raven – had one hand outstretched, obviously containing something – or some_one_ – with her powers. "Have you caught the girl yet?" she asked.

"Not yet," Starfire said. She paused a moment, then; "how is friend Robin?"

"He's fighting one of Slade's henchmen – he's almost like a clone of Robin, or something, they're so evenly matched." It wasn't a surprise, really, that Raven had noticed the similarities. She had always been the most intelligent of the team.

Starfire hesitated before shutting off the communicator, wanting to see her love once again before the end of the battle. But she knew it was best if she continued her search for the girl. "Alright, then, friend Raven, I must continue our search. Please take care of friend Robin." Of course, in her mind Robin was much more then merely 'friend'. Soon she would start then Tamaranean courting rituals – in the fall, the season before Tamaranean mating season began. Then she a Robin could be together as lovers – recognized as so on both Tamaran and Earth.

"Star?" Cyborg asked, knocking the alien out of her reverie. "C'mon, we have to get going."

Starfire nodded before following Cyborg down a street towards a teetering, burning, abandoned building.

-------------

He watched the Titan from the corner of his eye as he rose himself off the ground. Deeming that he wasn't about to attack a fallen opponent, he slowly, but surely, began to raise himself off the ground. For a mere moment, he took his eyes off the boy wonder. But that mere moment was enough time for Robin to attack. He lashed out, sending the dark magician rolling. He continued turning until he bumped into the alley's nearest wall.

"Ugh," he groaned, using the wall to get unsteadily to his feet. This time when Robin attacked him, he was ready. The boy wonder's fist landed in his palm with a soft _thump_, and in an instant he had the fighter pinned against the wall between his arms. The only noise was their harsh breathing, coming in short pants, almost in a rhythm. Their chest rose as one, inflating to encompass their shallow breaths. Terrance allowed himself a small smile as the boy wonder continued his panting after he had stopped.

Terry's arms trembled slightly under their burden, but he didn't fall. He wasn't weak – and even if he was, he sure as hell wasn't going to show Robin that he was. He looked up, meeting the boy wonder's hidden gaze. In it he saw a mixture of defeat, pain, fear, courage, and hope. It was odd, really, how such a large amount of emotions could be mixed. One would think that, seeing as these emotions were all different from each other, one couldn't combine these emotions. But the way you could feel these emotions by looking at Robin's mask, by seeing the way his hands shook, it was displayed perfectly. It was perfect, the mixture of beautiful emotions combining into an even more beautiful one. _He_ was beautiful, with his strands of hair sweeping into his face, his arms curled back against his frame …

Terry, unconsciously, leaned towards the boy wonder, the lights his red-orange eyes gave off dimming as he closed them. Robin froze as his lips made the lightest of contact. The magician could feel the fighter's hot breath on his lips, lingering long after the original gust of air was gone. Suddenly, the touch was deepened, their mouths meeting in one sudden, magical moment. Robin was too shocked to do anything as Terry's tongue ran along his lips, coaxing him into response. Tentatively, he wrapped his arms around the villain's neck, finding the taller boy's had his done up in a pony-tail. Holding the top of the hair in one hand, he used the other to remove the elastic that held it in place. The scrunchie dropped, unnoticeable on the dirty ground because of its dark color. Delicately, the boy wonder threaded a gloved hand through Terry's dyed blue hair. Terry did likewise, causing him to fall on top of Robin, crushing their bodies together.

Robin could feel Terry's erratic breathing, coming in short, deprived pants like his. When Terry's tongue was run over his lips again, Robin parted them, only to be overcome by a new wave of sensations. A battle much like the one they had been fighting not even two minutes ago began; a battle for dominance. Like the earlier fight, they were evenly matched, taking turns overpowering each other before being forced into submission by their opponent. Terry's felt a feeling of accomplishment welling up inside him. He had done it. He has kissed his crush. He knew it was very school-girl-ish of him, but he felt prideful also because he was kissing the Titans leader, Robin (who was, coincidentally, on America's Top Thirty Bachelors list – obviously those on the show's staff had conveniently forgotten that Starfire existed), one of the most eligible men on the planet – not to mention that he was_ handsome_. And, once given the right incentive, a _very_ good kisser.

Terry allowed his hands to slide along the boy wonder's chest, messaging the sore muscles. He nibbled on Robin's bottom lip, drawing moans of pleasure from the male beneath him. One of Robin's hands, the one not threaded through Terry's hair, slide down the magician's back to rest around his waist, where it proceeded to pull him as close as humanly possible. The kiss was deepened, and Robin tried not to let himself fall into Terry's arms, didn't want to feel himself relax completely into the other boy's grasp. When Terry broke the kiss and pulled away, he wasn't prepared to hold himself upright, and slid to the ground.

"Helena!" Terry yelled, shocked to see her standing at the alleyway's entrance. He looked around, searching for something. "What happened? Did you beat Raven?"

Helena nodded, smirking. The smug expression fitted her face nicely, Terry noted. "Right now, she's a bit … busy. But we should get moving. Slade's expecting us back. And I'm sure he'd love to hear about how you've been molesting superheroes," she added, grinning at the shocked form of Robin.

Terry huffed indignantly, but kept silent. With one last look at Robin, he followed Helena back to Slade's headquarters, ready to accept the fact that Robin wouldn't ever think of him again, and definitely not of that kiss.

_If only the same could be said for me_, Terry thought, somewhat sardonically.

-------------

The pair of them huddled in the corner of the teetering building, cowering from the fire. The girl leant back against the boy whose arms were wrapped protectively around her. There were pale trails of clean, tear-stained flesh against her soot-streaked face. The boy was staring at the fire out of the window. The long braids his hair was in dripped on onto his sweat-soaked shoulders. His eyes seemed dull in comparison to the girl's, whose were bright in wild, uncontrolled fear. The only hint that showed she was at all comfortable was the content smile on her lips as she leant into the boy's frame. In fact, one might have guessed that the boy was using his arms as he would chains to keep the girl from up and running away.

He was uncertain. He had survived a fire before, but it hadn't been this hot. In fact, of all the things he'd leant from being a pyro, it was that everything has a limit. He knew this from watching a fire burn itself out. Fire was one of the most powerful elements, and the elements overpower all: it's a fact of life. A river dries up; a mountain fall apart; a windstorm blows away; a fire burns out. Nothing changes.

Except the strong heat.

A small, violent shudder, followed by an incoherent sob, made him look down. The girl had her face buried in his chest, shielding it from the flames. Her small voice was muffled by his shirt. "When's it gonna end?"

The boy made soothing hushing noises, but the girl refused to quiet down. The flames crackled loudly around them. _The heat must be unbearable for her,_ Diable though, looking down at the small girl. They sat for a while in silence.

After a while, Alexis spoke. "Diable?" she asked quietly.

He looked up. "Yeah?"

Alexis snuggled closer to the pyro. "Tell me a story," she ordered.

Diable raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you a bit old for that?" he asked. Alexis pouted. He sighed, "fine." He wracked his brain for a usable idea. "Okay then. Once upon a time, in a beautiful kingdom far away, there was a strong, powerful warrior king –"

"Named Superman?" Alexis asked with childlike excitement.

Diable scowled at the interruption. "No, named Ashley," he said sarcastically, which caused her to pout again. "_Fine_," he groaned in exasperation, "named _Superman_. And he had an evil advisor –"

"Who wanted to take over his kingdom, enslave all of its people, and kill him, and knew he should do so by means of a crudely-made clone?" Alexis offered hopefully.

"… do you want me to tell the damn story or not?" Diable intoned monotonously. He got no reply, so he continued. "So. He wanted to do … what you said," he finished lamely. Alexis giggled. "So one night, while the king was sleeping in his great bedchamber, he snuck in and stole a lock of the king's hair. Then he went into his – erm – secret underground laboratory, and he went to work on cloning the king. Now, the clone turned out to be –"

Diable didn't have time to finish his sentence, as at that moment the door burst open, revealing a scantily clad female floating about a foot above the floor. "Hello!" she called, hoping for a response. Diable and Alexis remained silent, but she spotted them anyway. She took one look at Alexis' tear-stained cheeks and Diable's frayed braid, and decided they needed her help. She flew over to them, and offered her hand. "My name is Starfire, I am here to help you. Please, allow me to assist you."

Alexis nodded eagerly and took Starfire's hand. Diable, however, did not budge. So this was Starfire, the alien of the Teen Titans, possibly the largest freak on the planet. The meta-human decided her hated her more in person. _Look at her! How can anyone _not_ see that she's a freak?_ Diable thought angrily. He didn't move, instead opting to glare at her.

Starfire was taken aback. Normally, people loved her. But, she knew he needed saving, so she lifted him up and, before anyone could object – flew them outside onto the safe, not burning ground. Laying them down gently, she addressed the girl. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah. But the building was coming down, and we got trapped, and then our parents … we didn't see them," Alexis said, struggling to come up with a half-believable lie. She looked at Diable, willing him to help her in some way.

Diable took one look at Starfire, and raised an outstretched hand so that his palm was facing the alien. He murmured two words.

"Die, bitch."

A single fireball left his palm.

Starfire screamed.

-------------

_Boom._

The noise echoed desolately through the abandoned harbor. The water in the bay rippled like applause through an audience, eventually dissipating at the city's shoreline. The blonde girl smirked as the tower sank into the ground. Another loud rumble followed.

"I don't think your going to be expecting what Slade has in store for you, Titans." The girl spoke to herself, sounded more insane then she looked. Her tousled, unkempt blonde hair blew back and forth in the wind, at times covering her sky blue eyes. One might have thought that a bad thing, them being the pretty color that they were. But, in fact, it was better to not look at them.

The pain they held was unbearable, and the misty look gave a glassy tone to her eyes, powerfully happy memories shining through the hurt. But, firstly, fore-mostly, and most prominently was the look of insanity. Hers eyes twitched like a rabbit's nose. A wide-eyed gleeful look was plastered there permanently, too. All in all, not good material for a painting.

_Boom._

Another loud boom. She wondered how long it would take for the Titans to realize that their precious tower was under attack.

Mercifully, the girl allowed the tower to stay with several floors above ground level. Of course, in a few minutes that was all going to change. With a grunt, she returned to the work at hand. With another _boom_ the tower broke through another layer of rock. The tower continued its downward venture, until it was finally consumed by the ground.

"Hope you like your gift, Titans," the girl sneered, as she floated over to the island on a stray platform of rock. She picked her way through the rubble to the small door on what used to be the Titans' roof, which was no ground level.

She inserted a small key in the lock, and the door opened with an inaudible _click_. The girl made her way to the main room of the tower, and sat down. She reached under the couch for where the remote was usually hidden, and turned on the television to the new channel.

A reporter wearing a ridiculously short blue skirt and a matching blue blazer filled the screen. "_Reports are flowing in from all over Jump City of strange happenings, such as the massive fire in the ghetto area of the city. According to bystanders, the Titans were on the cases immediately, but apparently this new group might be a bit more then they can handle. There hasn't been word from them all day. And, in the same area of news, the Titans' 'Beast Boy' went missing four days ago. Might this have any possible connections to the betrayal of the sixth Titan, Terra, who recently began working for the Titans' arch nemesis, Slade? In other news, some people say that the Justice League is –_"

The girl sneered, clicking off the television. Didn't the reporters have anything more useful to report on then _Superheroes_? Seriously – wait a minute …

Beast Boy was missing?

…

… Could he have been? …. Nah, couldn't have …

Could it?

-------------

_The sky was a beautiful shade of magenta. The sun was setting on the horizon, and bright golden stars were flecked throughout the sky. The trees made hissing noises as the wind blew throughout their branches. Small woodland creature hopped down there path and through the trees, crying their many mournful cries. _

_Ah, it was a beautiful night. _

_His footsteps cracked many sticks as he made his way down the path. He wasn't exactly sure what he was looking for, but what ever it was, he knew that it was special. Or at least, special enough for him to be looking for it in the dead of night. _

_The sun had set quickly, plunging the forest into complete darkness. It rather suited the forest's new mood, as the small creatures had made themselves scarce to make way for the larger, more powerful beings. A long, mournful cry pierced the night peace, coming from far off in the distance. _

_Without warning, another cry answered, but from much closer. And this new cry was much more vicious. He stopped, not wanting to go towards the sound of the cry. He curled up in a dark area, waiting – for what, he wasn't sure. _

_The moonlight shone down directly on him, illuminating a dirty, torn tunic, and a ragged pair of pants. His skin was also covered in dirt, and his hair was coated in the stuff. When he shook his head, a waterfall of dirt came cascading down around him. He sat in the silence of the night, waiting …_

_…_

_…_

_…_

_… for what? That was made apparent soon enough. _

_A large black shadow blocked out the moon, and hot, thick breath passed over his face. Coming in short pants, the breath came from a very large mouth that was surrounded by two long, elephantine tusks. Small, beady eyes observed him, sparkling with intelligence. It backed up, giving him breathing space. When he saw what had been standing over him, he was in awe. It was like a large bear with think, shaggy fur and had two long, elegant curving tusks that protruded from its bottom lip. Its paws were massive, almost as big as his head. It stared at him, deep in though. Eventually, it turned around, headed for its own destination. _

_"Wait!" he called in alarm, leaping up to run after it. "Wait! Don't go! Stop!" he ordered. _

_The beast paused, looking at him strangely, as if asking, 'what do you want?' _

_He paused, shuffling, and looked down at his feet. He needed help, and it was obvious that the beast was on his side, so … "I was wondering if you could help me," he stated in a small voice. _

_The beast smiled, and stood up on its hind legs. He nearly fell over – and would have, if the beast hadn't enveloped him in a massive bear hug. It cried out joyfully, smiling contently._

_"Yes, I like you too," he managed to choke out. "Now please put me down?"_

_The beast obliged, and the two padded off into the moonlight._

-------------

Wintergreen carried the boy to the infirmary, placing him on a plain hospital bed. He then made his way through the halls to the main computer room.

With a _beep_, the screen flick on. Slade appeared from the other end of the link.

"Wintergreen," Slade addressed the other man. "Has he woken yet?"

"No sir," Wintergreen replied dutifully.

"Well when he does, send him here," Slade ordered.

"Of course, sir. But why?"

"Things aren't going as well as planned, Wintergreen," Slade answered tiredly.

-------------

_With beady eyes, the beast watched as the boy ate soundly, smacking his lips loudly on the fruit. It grunted darkly, as if trying to rid itself of thought it rather wouldn't have. It probably didn't think that the boy should be wasting his time down here, in the dark, where they could very easily be attack by … something. Anything. It didn't know. But something was telling it to **get out of there. **_

_A hushed rustling in the bushes caused the boy to look up. "Wosh' 'att?" he tried to ask around his mouthful, swallowing thickly in apprehension. _

_The beast grunted, its beady eyes glaring into the dark. _

_**Get. Out.**_

_The beast shifted onto all fours, ready to jump into action like a spring-loaded monstrosity. It hissed, its dark eyes gleaming in the half-light of the moon. _

_"Why're you looking like that?" the boy asked cautiously, edging further away from the beast, wary of it long, curved tusks, and large, sharp claws._

_**Go. Get out!**_

_"Uh, hello?" the beast heard the boy's voice over the rustling, but quickly resettled its focus. _

_**Leave!**_

_"Why're you doing that?"_

_**Get out, now!**_

_"Hel-lo!"_

_**Get! Out!**_

_"Are you listening?"_

_**GET OUT!**_

_"Dude!"_

_**GET OUT NOW!**_

_Rustling._

_**GET OUT!**_

_"Hello?"_

_**NOW!**_

**Bam!**

_The beast shot forward like a spring-loaded rocket, grabbing the boy and darting through the woods. He was flying, flying, flying into the air and out of control, the shaggy beast lunging and leaping through the rickety trail the wood provided. But it was far to slow, as a series of gunshot could be heard emanating from not far off. There was a final one, louder this time, and the beast stumbled, letting out a pained yowl. It fell to the ground, letting out low, laborious breaths. _

_"You're … dying," he observed in a manner that was strangely calmer then he normally would have used. "And … there isn't anything I can do?"_

_A cough, sharp and sickening, laid waste to the dead silence of the forest. He felt like crying, and there was a lump in his throat that wouldn't go away. "I … I'm sorry." Another cough, this time sounding very much like the beast was muttering, 'you're joking, right?' "I really am." A skeptical look. "I … wish there was something I could do to help."_

**You could wake up.**

_"What?" Beast Boy asked the silent forest. _

**Wake up. **

-------------

Beast Boy's limbs re-animated themselves languidly, scarcely responding to his mental commands. His arms barely reached higher, then his waist, and his feet were never more then two inches from the ground. As tired as he was, he tried to keep up with Wintergreen, whose brisk trot was taking them through the winding tunnels of Slade's fortress at a moderate pace.

Eventually, Beast Boy found himself in a vaguely familiar chamber. Slade was before, looking at the many monitor placed before him. The pictures were shadowed, and Beast Boy could barely make out that there were moving figures on it.

Minutes passed. Time ticked away, and with each passing iota of time, And strange sensation, continually crept over Beast Boy, sending shivers down his back, raising the hair on his arms. When Slade finally turned around to address Beast Boy, the shivers had been there for what seemed like ages.

"Apprentice," Slade addressed him coldly, his eyes calculating, "I hope you are up for the task I am about to give to you." He waited, his eyes, glimmering in cold delight as his apprentice nodded. "I order you to go to the warehouse near in the harbor – number thirty-eight – and wait there for Helena and Diable to arrive. Then I want all three of you to return to the base there – they will know where to find it – and I want you to remain in the monitoring room until you receive further instructions. They know to wait for you at the harbor, and when you arrive, relay my commands to them."

Beast Boy nodded. Slade dismissed him.

-------------

Nobody noticed the green raven that flitted throughout the crowd, ducking and diving in the throng of people. Except for a few strangely observant passer-bys.

"I can't believe that little bastard killed Gizmo," the girl stated to her tall companion, who grunted in response.

"You're right" the girl replied after a minute, unaware that her companion hadn't said anything inteligible, "We need to get revenge."

There was a pause in which both member of the group observed the grren bird, before the girl began to drink her coffee. "Gizmo always this the coffee at this place was crap," she muttered fondly.

-------------

**A/N:** Good gosh, that took forever. I apologize deeply. My inspiration was lost, and I am in the process of attempting to rekindle it. I know I take long to update, so I try to make the chapters worth the wait. This chapter IS NOT BETA-D. If anyone would like that position, please contact me via my e-mail, which I _believe_ is in my profile.


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